Page 6 of All Bark, No Bite

CHAPTER 3

ANDERSON

The writing situation hasn’t gotten better the rest of the day. Boomer has a sixth sense and barks every time I sit back down at my desk thinking he’s given up the ghost and is, maybe, taking a nap. It never fails.

It makes me want to break down the door and set the dog free.

I won’t because I might be furious about the situation and annoyed at Reese for letting it continue, but I’m not a fucking monster.

I almost wish I was when my publisher calls. There’s no preamble, just his expectant voice coming down the line, “How is the book progressing, Anderson? You know your deadline is coming up fast.”

I barely bite back my groan of annoyance before I force my voice to sound something like hopeful, “It’s going great. I’m going to meet my deadline. Don’t worry.”

He doesn’t sound convinced, “Are you sure? I thought you were having issues concentrating?”

Fuck.

Did I tell him that? I think I did. It was in a stupid moment of weakness. I guess I can’t take it back now, as much as I wish I could.

“I’m trying to find a work around.” It’s not exactly a lie.

“Are you getting out of your new place and finding somewhere quiet you can concentrate?” Yeah, he’s hopeful as fuck.

“How’d you know? You don’t have camera’s in here,” I force my voice to sound joking, “do you?”

He barks out a laugh and then there’s a muffling of his voice as he clearly talks to someone else in his office. I almost breathe a sigh of relief, but I know it’s too soon for it, not until we hang up.

“Don’t tempt me,” he teases me right back, “it wouldn’t be a bad idea.” I open my mouth to retort, but before I can, he’s rushing off the phone. “If you’re sure you’re moving ahead, I won’t bug you as much. Just remember this deadline is final. We need this manuscript.” He puts a little more force in his tone, as if he’s a parent trying to bring an errant child back in line, “Youneed this manuscript.”

“Yeah,” I choke out, not wanting to admit how true his words are.

Then he’s gone and I’m left to stew over his words. I wish he was wrong, but he’s not. He’s so not.

I do need this manuscript. It’s been too long since I put out my last book. Readers might love my books, but they can be fickle as well. They want the next installment. They want the mystery, and they want to be shocked by how it all unravels.

As if the pressure makes me a better writer. It does not.

The barking from next door reaches a fever pitch and I hear the thud of a door closing. It’s the same cacophony which greets Reese every day when she gets home. I swear the dog has a different bark for her, as if he’s happy to see her. He probably is.

I wish I could blame him for it, but I can’t.

The vision of Reese coming home to me, a smile on her face as she approaches before planting a kiss on my lips in greeting, assaults me. I try and shake it off, but I swear I can feel the tingle of her lips on mine. Which is a problem.

I have enough distractions and she’s the source of most of them. It does nothing to make her less appealing to me. She’s gorgeous. If only she cared about anyone other than herself.

If she did, then she would have listened to my complaints and done something about it.

Grabbing my keys and pocketing them, I’m out my door before I can think twice about it. I’m fueled by the need for her to listen to me this time. She has to. There’s too much pressure on my shoulders and something has to give.

I march over to Reese’s door, my hand raised so I can pound on it. I’m determined to make her listen to every complaint I have. Before I can make contact with the door, it swings open. Reese’s surprised brown eyes come up and meet mine.

I hate the way her shoulders slump when she sees me, but I’m not going to be deterred. Not from my mission. I need some peace and fucking quiet. I need to be able to work.

There’s a false cheeriness to her voice today which rankles me because it’s a lie, “Hi, Anderson. It’s been a few days.” She searches my face, a touch of hopefulness seeping in, “I thought things might have been getting better?”

My anger flares and I snort, “Better? No.”

Her eyes fall to the ground, and I’ve never felt like a bigger piece of shit than I do right now. I push it aside. This woman hasn’t listened to me once and the defeated look on her face doesn’t change a damn thing. Not for me.

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